


We're Doing the Right Thing

by Anonymous



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Guilt, Hostage Situations, Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28183167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tubbo has to do what is right for his country. He knows he's doing the right thing. If Carl wasn't enough to subdue Technoblade, they would have to take more drastic measures.He's doing the right thing.Philza disagrees.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 151
Collections: Anonymous, Snivy's Stories





	We're Doing the Right Thing

“This is wrong, Tubbo.”

Outside the cell, Tubbo shifted nervously from one foot to the other, running his fingers along the edge of a netherite blade. He didn’t meet the prisoner’s eyes.

“He— he destroyed everything. He needs to be stopped. He’s a monster, Phil.”

A frown creased the man’s face, flickering torchlight highlighting every detail of his frustration— his disappointment was painfully obvious. “You know that’s not true, Tubbo. The measures you have taken prove otherwise. Tubbo, am I listening to you, or am I listening to Quackity?”

Tubbo turned to his prisoner, tightening his grip on his weapon. “I’m not incompetent! I can think for myself. Techno killed me, don’t you remember that? I have plenty of reason to be mad at him. This is— this is what everyone wants.”

“I know you’re doing your best, Tubbo. I also know you’re too young for this. There’s too much on your shoulders— and what you’re trying to do, it’s going to add to that weight.”

Tubbo scowled, turning away from Phil once more. As quickly as his anger had surfaced, it seemed to have disappeared. “I don’t care what you think, Phil. You can’t stop me.”

Silence fell, only broken by the crackle of the torchlight. Even breath went unheard, each occupant holding in anticipation of what would happen next.

At Tubbo’s side, the static of a communicator broke the tension.

_”We got him, Tubbo!”_

Quackity’s voice was quiet, but it rang like a shout in the small room. His excitement was obvious. Phil slumped against the wall, raising his hands to cover his face.

 _“He was gonna fight again, obviously, but he gave up pretty quickly when we told him who we had. So much for the blood god, right? We figured out how he made it out last time, too— turns out he had another one, and he gave it up with no trouble at all. You should have seen it!_ 'one prisoner is dying today, one way or another’ _I said, and he just handed it over. We’ll send someone over soon to cover your watch— you should be here to see it.”_

Tubbo’s face was a mess of emotions— first excitement, then fear, then disappointment— he looked over to Phil, but the man was no longer meeting his eyes, staring into the darkness of the corners of his cell instead.

“That’s, um. That’s good, Quackity. Tell whoever comes down here to be careful they’re not followed. W-we don’t want anyone interfering like last time.”

“Will do, mister president. And remember, you’re doing the right thing.”

Tubbo didn’t respond, ending the call with a slight nod, trying not to let his hand shake as he returned the communicator to his side.

The silence returned, with a slight additional sound: Phil was breathing heavily, now. Tubbo tried to ignore it, busying himself with studying the details of his sword as best he could in the flickering torchlight.

He nearly jumped when the silence broke.

“I won’t forgive you for this, you know. I hope you know that.” Phil’s voice had lost its steady monotone from before, shaking ever so slightly, but it still held the weight of disappointment. It reminded Tubbo of what Phil sounded like on the few occasions he had spoken about Wilbur’s final actions.

Tubbo fought to keep his voice steady as he responded. Like it or not, he was the president. A leader needed to be confident, Quackity said. It was too late to back down now. He couldn’t be weak. People needed him to keep the peace. When he spoke, his words had a quiet finality.

“I know.”


End file.
